


kiss the sun at night

by MyCupOfTea



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M, Secret Relationship, au where valentine's day is on a saturday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 06:52:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13630968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyCupOfTea/pseuds/MyCupOfTea
Summary: Ransom is running on an exhausted, startled kind of autopilot when he picks up his phone at two in the morning, so he doesn't even think to be concerned about why his phone is ringing at two in the morning."What do you say if I say I'm in Boston," Tater says, with no preamble."What," Ransom says, because it's two in the morning.





	kiss the sun at night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WrathoftheStag (Mwuahna)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mwuahna/gifts).



> I really enjoyed getting to write this fanfic for you!
> 
> Title is from [Plans by Birds of Tokyo](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jSUPaTF-wN8).

Ransom is running on an exhausted, startled kind of autopilot when he picks up his phone at two in the morning, so he doesn't even think to be concerned about why his phone is ringing at two in the morning.

"What do you say if I say I'm in Boston," Tater says, with no preamble.

"What," Ransom says, because it's two in the morning.

"I'm in Boston," Tater amends, apparently realizing it was several hours too late to beat around the bush.

Ransom rolls onto his back, rubbing his eyes and yawning. "Oh. Why? Thought they were flying you in to Green?"

"Were supposed to," Tater grumbles. "Landed at Logan instead. Big power outage in Providence."

"Oh." His brain finally clunks into gear. "Oh wait, shit. Boston. Do you wanna come over?"

"Yes," Tater says, and Ransom feels guilty when he hears the relief in it, like Tater wasn't sure if he was welcome.

"Do you need me to come get you? I can steal Holster's car."

"No, no, Jack will drop me off. He rented a car."

"Okay. Text me when you get here and I'll let you in?"

"Yes."

As soon as the call ends, the anxiety starts eating at Ransom.

Jack has been to the apartment before - what if he figures out that Tater isn't visiting a friend, but instead Ransom? Not to mention that Tater has never stayed with Ransom overnight when Holster isn't out of town. How are they going to sneak him out in the morning?

And _God_ , is he just paranoid, or is it taking a long time for Tater to get there?

Just as he was about to hit send on a text asking where he was, Tater texts "here" and Ransom goes to let him in.

Wordlessly, he shuffles Tater into his room, duffel in the corner and dark circles under his eyes. They're quiet until Tater finally says, "I think Jack knows".

Ransom puts his head in his hands.

"About us?"

"Not about _us_. That I'm not visiting Russian friend, probably. He might think I'm lying because I'm dating."

"If you think Jack knows, than he probably does. He knows a lot more than he lets on."

"Zimmboni." Tater shakes his head ruefully. "He dropped me off few blocks away. He's staying with B tonight."

"I figured he would. Wait, how far did you walk?" Ransom says, thinking about the dropping temperature and the lateness of the hour.

Tater looks slightly sheepish. "Eight blocks?"

"Alexei!"

"They were short blocks! And I knew Jack knew something. Didn't want him to get idea where I was going."

"But it's dark! And cold. And you're tired. Boston is a fucked up place, sometimes."

Tater snorts.

"I'm six four and have foreign accent. _I'm_ scary thing in Boston tonight."

"It's still cold."

"I'm Russian."

" _I'm_ Canadian."

It's a longstanding joke between them, and Ransom can feel his mood lightening.

"I'm sorry," Tater says.

"About what?"

"Surprise visit. I know you like having plan."

Ransom sighs, but smiles. "It's easier to keep it a secret when we have a plan, and I have no fucking clue how you're getting out of here in the morning, but I like getting to see you. Even if it's at ass-o'clock and we're totally going to get caught in the morning."

"Yeah?"

Tater only has three facial expressions on the ice: his angry scowl, his concentrating face, and his wide, toothy grin, so the first time he turned the crooked, dopey smile he's wearing now on Ransom, Ransom felt like he got pushed off a skyscraper, but like, in a good way.

"Yeah," Ransom says, leaning in to kiss him. "Are you going to sleep in that suit?"

Tater laughs. "No, please," he says, and Ransom gets to work on helping him undo his buttons, both of them with sleep clumsy fingers.

Ransom's eyes close against his will once he's underneath the covers, Tater's head tucked under his chin.

"How are we," Ransom yawns, "tomorrow?"

"Yeah, tomorrow," Tater agrees. Ransom is asleep before he realizes that wasn't an answer.

 

* * *

 

When Ransom wakes up, the world outside the window is soft and silent, the way it is on a snowy Saturday. Tater has sprawled out on his stomach in his sleep, drooling openly on Ransom's good pillowcase. Ransom's heart is full and his head is quiet.

Until his eyes slide over the time on his alarm clock.

" _Shit_ ," he hisses, "shit. Shit. Fuck. _Alexei_." Bypassing rationality, he starts trying to push Tater out of bed. Tater starts awake.

"What - what - _what_ -"

"It's ten," Ransom says, panicked. "Holster will be out _any minute_. He thinks he can sleep in like a frat guy but he _can't_ , he's been awake in bed for an hour _at least_ -"

"I'm up, I'm up." Tater's hair is sticking up on one side and completely flat on the other. Ransom would appreciate it if they weren't both about to get found out. "Where are - there -"

They get Tater in clothes, at least, although they don't do anything about his hair and he's holding his shoes in his hand. Right before they leave Ransom's room, Tater pulls him in for a kiss, a quick, hard press of their lips.

"Come to Providence with me," he says, urgently.

"You know I -"

"Please. I'll tell Holster. I'll tell -"

"Tell him what?"

"I need help moving. Or - shopping. Clothes. You have better taste. Believable?" Tater's asks, face bright and hopeful.

"Not even a little bit, but - fuck it. Give me two minutes."

He's got clothes at Tater's, so he doesn't bother packing. He grabs his keys and his wallet, throws on a pair of sweatpants, his coat and his boots. He checks the hallway first, and after determining the coast was clear, ushers Tater towards the front door.

They almost make it, too.

Tater is out the front door, and Ransom is about to follow him when he hears "Rans, where are you going?".

Ransom slams the front door, hard and fast enough that he literally hits Tater's ass with the door. He puts his back against the door and braces for impact.

Holster is still in his pajamas and obviously just got out of bed, but he's been awake for a while. Ransom can tell, because he's got his glasses on, and he's way too alert for a newly awake Holster.

"I - um - I'm not - not going anywhere."

Holster starts crossing the apartment with narrowed eyes. "Ransom, my buddy. My pal. You're a shit liar. I know this. You know this. Your third grade teacher knows this, and I know your third grade teacher knows this because you've told me almost everything there is to know about you. So where are you going?"

"I can't - I'm not -"

"C'mon Rans. We watched Bitty and Jack do this for months." Ransom flinches when Holster says "Jack"; he's a little too on the money with how similar those situations are. "You're sneaking out, you won't tell me where you're going, and this is the third time since New Years. You're seeing someone, and lying about it."

Ransom swallows hard. He can't say anything because Holster's right.

He and Holster lock eyes for several long, awful moments. Finally, Holster sighs.

"Look, I don't - I don't want to - I know you wouldn't keep it from me unless you had to. I'm just worried that you're - that you're keeping it from me because you're - _scared_ , or something, or that you -"

"It's not that I don't trust you, I do. I do, but I can't tell you, I haven't told anyone, we haven't told _anyone,_ I promise -"

"Just promise me that you're not - I don't know, you're not being threatened or something. And that you have a good reason for not telling me."

"I promise. I really, really want to tell you but I can't. And it's a really good reason." Ransom swallows hard. "For the record? I'm really happy, Hols."

"I believe you." Holster hesitates, then continues. "Okay. I'm going to conveniently going to go back in my room. When you come back tomorrow I'm going to have conveniently forgotten this."

Ransom puts his hands on Holster's shoulders.

"You are my best friend, and I love you," he says solemnly, letting Holster walk away before bolting out the front door.

Tater is waiting a few doors down with an anxious face on. Ransom doesn't say anything, just leads him out onto the snowy sidewalk.

"I can't _believe_ that I got caught _walk of shaming_ in my own apartment, and we didn't even get to fuck."

Tater gapes at him.

"He _knows_?"

"Holster? No. He knows I'm seeing someone, and that I have to keep it a secret." Ransom blows out a long breath, watching it billow in the cold. "He said he wouldn't - I don't know, be obnoxious about it - as long as I promised I wasn't keeping it from him in particular and I wasn't being hurt or whatever. So I told him I had a really good reason and that I hadn't told anyone." Ransom smiles. "And that I'm really happy."

"Oh."

"So. Are we getting breakfast here or in Providence?"

 

* * *

 

When Ransom woke up for the second time that day, it was early evening and he was alone in his boyfriend's bed. He's pleasantly loose and relaxed, satisfied. All in all, not a bad way to wake up.

Would be better if said boyfriend were there, though.

With that thought, Ransom stands up and slides on the sweatpants he was wearing earlier. He finds Tater standing in front of the stove making something, with a tablet playing the game from last night. Ransom walks up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. He buries his face in the tousled hair at his nape and hums happily, eyes closed.

"What are you making?"

"Very fancy Russian meal. Mama made it for us all the time. Very complicated."

Ransom hesitates. "Oh. What's it. . . what's it called?"

"Mac and cheese."

Ransom peers down over Tater's shoulder and sure enough, it's plain macaroni in the pot on the stuff. He snorts.

"I should have known," he mutters into the collar of Tater's t shirt. He pillows his head on Tater's shoulder, closing his eyes until Tater turns around to put a bowl in his hands.

There's macaroni in the bowl, pushed into a heart shape.

"Um -" Ransom starts.

"For Valentine's Day."

"It's not - Is it?"

Tater reaches into the pocket of his sweatpants to pull out his phone, and shows him the date.

 _February 14th_.

"Huh. How did we miss that. Fuck, I've gotta text Nursey."

Tater shrugs with one shoulder, smiling ruefully.

"Been busy."

Ransom lets out a low whistle.

"We have, but wow."

"Wow," Tater says, absently, fiddling with his own bowl. After a healthy pause, he continues, trying and failing to casually drop the bombshell of "my parents are coming this summer".

"Oh," Ransom says weakly. "That's good, though, right? They haven't been since. . ."

"Since draft," Tater affirms with a grimace. "Want to. . . Tell them. About us. In person."

"Oh," Ransom repeats, feeling a little stunned.

"And then - they know - we can. . . tell other people?" Tater looks the way Ransom feels - a few parts hopeful and a few parts scared.

"Oh - really? This isn't - this isn't just because Jack and Holster are onto us right?"

"Not _just_. But - would be good to tell them, no?"

Ransom closes his eyes and remembers confessing to Holster that he's happy.

"Yeah. It would be really good."

"And we're not - not Jack and B. I'm not ready to -"

"To pull a Jack and Bitty?" Ransom says wryly. "I think our situation is a little different. Not that I don't totally get the appeal of making out under the Stanley Cup, but."

Tater laughs.

"Maybe one day, but not now." Tater sighs. "I will feel better once I tell Mom and Dad. Just want to do it in person."

"Dude, you don't think your phone is like. . . tapped or something?" Ransom feels his face reddening at the idea of a secret government person somewhere listening to their conversations when Tater's on the road.

"Russia not _that_ scary," Tater says, rolling his eyes. "Just want to see their faces. And. . . maybe make sure they can't hang up on me."

"Oh shit. Does this mean we're telling _my_ parents? Because they're going to adore you. You're going to be obligated for the rest of your life to take my mom's phone calls."

Tater's eyes are warm. "If you want to."

"I do want to. I love you." Ransom smiles at the press of lips to his temple.

"I love you too."

"Just remind me of that in a few months when I'm a nervous wreck trying to meet your parents."

Tater laughs, easy.

"Always."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr at [marchingatmidnight](http://marchingatmidnight.tumblr.com/)


End file.
